


Passing Notes

by liliaeth



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, M/M, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liliaeth/pseuds/liliaeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott was just a boy when the world found out about werewolves. Later after he was bitten, he would remember fearing the wolves. So how can he blame Stiles for being scared of him, when he used to feel the same way. </p><p>Meeting up again in college, two former friends have to decide whether they want to rebuild their relationship or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passing Notes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GeekLover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekLover/gifts).



> I'd like to thank clavicular, radlilim and alan713ch for going through the effort of looking through this and betaing this for me. It would have had a lot more issues without their help.

It was weird being back, sitting in the armored bus as they drove through the city, people staring at them all the way. Scott tried not to care as parents pulled their children closer. He pulled up his bookbag from between his feet and closed his eyes for a second. The air smelled different, there wasn’t machine oil or gunpowder all around them. Nor was there the electrical smell of the fences back in the preserve.

There was a crowd waiting for them in front of the college campus. Scott looked at Isaac, Isaac had quickly become his best friend back on the preserve and it was easy to fall back in the comfort of the taller boy’s presence now. There were rows of people, Scott cursed the perfect vision that the bite had given him as it allowed him to see not just every single face, but the hate in their eyes. The demonstrators kept calling out their creed. “No wolves on campus”. “Wolves kill.” “Keep the monsters away from our kids.” And those were some of the kindest ones.

The other kids were looking at him for guidance and Scott moved slowly as he got up from his seat and moved to the front of the bus. The others following his lead. Scott fought back the urge to let his eyes shine red, his wolf feeling protective over his pack. 

Erica tried to look seductive, but Scott knew it just hid her fear. It was an armor, just like Isaac’s leather jacket or Boyd’s stoicism. They were all nervous. Well, all except for Jackson, who was making an ass of himself, sneering at the crowd. Scott let out a soft growl to keep him under control before he caused all of them trouble. Scott knew Jackson was as insecure as he was, he just had a habit of acting like an ass because of it.

He fingered the tag in his ear, the one that identified him as a Were. It had enough wolfsbane in it, that if he screwed up, the cops would be able to put him down in a matter of seconds. They said it was for the protection of the people around them. Scott hated the feel of it.

It was weird being in a place without razor wire, without guard towers, or guards keeping an eye on the place, guns in hand. The real world felt oddly terrifying.  
Scott hadn’t thought he’d ever miss the training center at the preserve, or the Were Rehabilitation Institute as it was officially called. The center was supposed to help young Weres anchor themselves and find control, keep them from losing control under the full moon and teach them to be responsible citizens. Didn’t make the difference matter any less. 

Isaac acted like he didn’t care. He loved putting up the tough guy act, putting his hand on Scott’s shoulder and smile, glad they’d made it. They were out now, Scott just hoped they’d be able to stay out. They’d stay in a Were only dorm, repay the state by doing work study, helping out at the cafeteria, keeping the place clean, and in exchange they’d get to go to Stanford.

This wasn’t anything like he’d imagined going to college would be like when he was a kid, back before he was bitten. The way him and Stiles discussed it as a grand enterprise. His mom would have dropped him off. She’d help him set up the room that he’d of course share with Stiles. They’d spend a year in the dorms, working through the year to save enough money so he and Stiles could rent an apartment for their second year. 

Stiles would pick the posters and Scott would bring his lacrosse gear, since he’d of course have gotten on the team. They’d try and share whatever classes they could, and would help one another with the ones they took on their own. 

And every chance they had, they would have gone back home to their parents, eat his mom’s food and make sure she and the sheriff were fine.

It made Scott wish that they could have been allowed to go home first, so he’d been able to spend some time with her. But that wasn’t the way things were done. No, even now their handlers were all around them, ready to step in if one of the Weres lost it and decided to attack someone. 

Scott wondered at times if their intention was really to keep people safe, or if they were trying to piss off his pack, and get them to do something, so the government could call this entire project a failure from the get go.

He pulled his bag over his shoulder, tugging at the holds and followed the guards towards the dorm assigned to the Pack. The guards would stick around for as long as the Weres were at Stanford. If nothing went wrong, other colleges might open up to Weres as well. 

Things hadn’t always been like this. It used to be that Weres were hidden, that shapeshifters of any kind would coexist with humanity, and nobody was any the wiser. But then the war started as Deucalion made a terrorist attack against the human population. 

They said the mad Alpha was acting in revenge. That human hunters had attacked and blinded the man, and that he was just striking back. But no one cared about what humans had done to Weres, not when they could still show images of the human victims that Deucalion’s betas had massacred.

Not when Deucalion had made a sport out of turning as many humans as he could manage, claiming new betas for his pack. New fodder for his war.

The war had lasted years, and in the end, the Weres lost. But by that time it was too late for kids like Scott to pretend that everything was going to just go back to normal.

Deucalion’s pack had given the world proof that Weres were real, that they were dangerous. It didn’t take long before all Weres were seen as a threat. It didn’t matter that plenty of packs had sided with the humans against Deucalion’s people. To the humans they were all the same, monsters one and all. 

Collected in reservations, living under constant supervision, treated as unruly dogs that needed to be put in their place and taught to scrape for any favor humanity had to offer. The rules had been loosening the past few years. Allowing Weres to work outside of the preserves, as long as they went back in for the night. But even now it was hard for any Were to find the merest semblance of acceptance outside of the gates.

Scott remembered how scared he’d been of Weres when he’d been a kid, when he was still human. Back before a rogue Alpha had attacked him in the woods. He’d been so scared of what was happening to him that he’d tried to hide what he was. He hadn’t dare tell anyone, not even Stiles, scared to get them in as much trouble as he himself already was. He’d even given up on lacrosse sign ups. Stiles had thought he’d lost his mind, when he’d left his friend standing all alone on the field. Stiles didn’t even care for lacrosse, he only went for Scott’s sake. Not that hiding worked for long.

All it took was one full moon, and his secret was out. He still remembered the look on Stiles’ face when his best friend had come looking for him, worried that something was wrong with him, that he was sick. When Scott had wolfed out at him, Stiles had begged for it not to be true, backing off the entire time, before he ran through the room. He mostly got away because of the chains Scott had locked himself to the heater with. Scott would never forget the horror in his best friend’s eyes.

It was enough of a shock to make Scott fall back on himself, tearing up on himself until he tore the heater of the wall and ran off into the woods.

The militia had showed up before the night was over.

He woke up that morning, chained up, a wolfsbane knitted hood placed over his head. When they took off the hood they had dragged him to an interrogation room. He’d kept asking for his mom, even as they demanded to know who’d bitten him. 

In the end he hadn’t even been allowed to say goodbye to his mom before he’d been dragged off to the preserve. His parents, mostly his mom, had been allowed the occasional visit, but always supervised. Even knowing that only Alphas could turn people into Weres, there were still strict rules about interactions between Weres and regular people.  
It hadn’t been easy at the school. He missed his friends and his family. He’d spent his first night there crying in his bed, trying to think of anything he could done differently. It wasn’t like there was much else to do since he was trapped in his room until they thought he was safe enough to be let out amongst the other kids. The born Weres looked down on them, and the humans didn’t care about the difference.

There’d been struggles, just trying to get his hands on decent clothes that fit him, or a book that didn’t miss half its pages for class. Oddly enough the structure and boredom of the place had actually helped him focus on his schooling. Fighting for position in the pack took the place of lacrosse, and soon he’d had a pack of his own looking for his protection, even though he’d still been a beta at the time.

And then he became an Alpha, a true Alpha. No one knew how it happened, just that one day a guard had tried to attack one of the kids under Scott’s care and Scott had gone straight through a barrier of Mountain Ash to come to the kid’s defense. Scott had almost ended up put down after that, if it weren’t for the Hale Alpha standing up for him. Scott had been terrified, thinking she was going to tear him down for causing trouble. Instead she had looked at him like she was seeing a miracle.

After that, it didn’t matter that he was only a kid himself, suddenly he was part of the ruling body of the preserve, representing his pack, most of whom were other turned betas like he himself had been. It’s how he’d managed to talk them into giving kids a chance to go to college, reintegrate into society. It’s why he was here, taking charge of his pack and keeping them calm as they ran the gauntlet.

He shivered at the smell of the rotten eggs that the crowd tried to throw at them. For once glad for the guard’s presence, since it wouldn’t do for them to do nothing while their charges were attacked. Derek Hale, only son of the Hale Alpha was doing his level best to make sure the humans didn’t dare get any closer. If Scott didn’t know Derek, he might even worry about the man’s glower. Luckily he’d seen the guy playing with the younger kids in the school and knew him for the softie he was underneath.  
They were almost there, when Scott saw them. Dressed up in their camouflage outfits as if still ready for war. Members of the Human Militia. Kids who’d fought against Weres and helped patrol their communities against rogue Weres. 

And worst of all, the one face amongst them that he hadn’t expected to see. Stiles.

 

*****

 

Scott ran over the campus grounds. Rushing past kids relaxing in the quad, making sure not to run over any of them, or to seem even the least bit threatening as he did so. Behavior and Social Sciences started in ten minutes, but work had taken far longer than intended. It wasn’t cook’s fault. She was nice enough. But one of her other workers had refused to work alongside a Were, leaving Scott and Isaac stuck with double the work while the asshole was arguing with the cook over the trauma he’d been put through.  
Isaac had flashed his eyes at the guy as he ran past when cook let him go, and the boy had run off even faster. Scott had rolled his eyes at his friend, thinking his displeasure at the other Were. Isaac just smiled even wider at that.

When they were finished the cook had stood there, wringing her hands, as if she wasn’t sure what to say. So she just told them to put their aprons in the wash with the others and gave them some leftovers from dinner. Scott had pushed his in his bag before running off to the showers.

He’d managed to clean up at least, but if he didn’t hurry, there was no way he’d manage to get to class before the teacher did. And their next teacher was not known for his leniency towards students being late. Especially in regards to Were students.

Scott jumped over some benches and kept running. His heart almost froze when he saw the teacher walking up the hall. He managed to enter class just before the guy got there and sat down, not bothering to check where he was sitting. Not like there was time left to look for a better spot. It’s not like it mattered where he sat down, whomever he sat down next to would be pissed off no matter what he did.

The teacher’s face looked blank, his nose twitched wildly, but he smelled angry and Scott decided to just stay quiet and not say a word that could pull the guy’s wrath even further towards him.

It wasn’t until he bent over to grab his papers out of his bag that he realized who was sitting next to him. Stiles. Scott tried to think of something to say, but in the end he decided that it was probably better if he didn’t.

Stiles was refusing to look at him, refusing to even acknowledge he existed. Scott shifted in his seat, his tongue too tied to try and say something. The last thing he wanted to hear, was for Stiles to call him a monster, since it was obvious that’s what he thought Scott was. 

He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the teacher’s lecture, but it was hard to do so when Stiles’ scent was right there, slipping into him as if it was trying to reclaim the part of him that used to be Stiles’. Stiles seemed pale, too pale. And he was tense, as if he sat ready to break into a run at any time. 

Scott couldn’t blame him, he wasn’t that much better off himself.

And every time he looked at Stiles, all he could see, was that moment of horror, when Stiles had believed that Scott was going to attack him, when part of him had almost wanted to do so. That one moment where he was more animal than human, even as if there was this infection of anger forcing itself in his blood. He wasn’t sure who it was aimed at, Stiles, himself, the militia, Deucalion?

Whose fault was it that he’d followed Stiles into the woods that night?

Sure, Stiles had asked him to follow him outside, he’d wanted to go spy on the Human Militia. All the kids looked up to the Militia, most of them even wanted to join and help protect the town. Not Scott. He’d already lost his dad to his work in the FBI, working with the Militia. He knew his mom would be too upset if he tried to join as well. Scott should have said no, he should have ignored Stiles, especially the night before the lacrosse try outs. But it was Stiles, and he’d never been able to say no to him. 

They’d been traipsing through the woods for over half an hour, mostly wasting their time. Scott had been about to tell Stiles they should just give up on it all, go back home, get back to their beds. But then lights had flared their way and the two of them had ducked away behind the trees. Scott pulled out his inhaler, desperate to catch a breath, but he dropped it when a voice demanding them to surrender rang through the forest.

Scott had lifted his hand to cover his eyes, standing there frozen as sheriff Stilinski called Stiles out in the open, calming down the Militia members when they were about to unleash their fury on whomever was getting in their way. Yelling at them when they got a bit too rough with Stiles. The group was led by Chris Argent, third in command of the Militia. The man sounded harsh and unforgiving. The two of them dragged Stiles off with them. The woods were dangerous, they’d said, forbidden for anyone without a license at least until the Were threat was under control. Worse than that, there were Weres around, and how could anyone be stupid enough to get in the Militia’s way when they were doing their work?

Scott had wanted to leave with them, to tell the sheriff that he was there as well. But he waited too long and the men were gone before he came out of hiding. It was too dark to find his inhaler.

And then, when he’d been trying to get back home, he’d heard something behind him, a twig snapping. He turned around, wondering if it was the Militia again, almost hoping it was so they could take him home. He called out for whomever was there to show themselves. No one did. He tried to continue towards home, but his asthma stopped him. He almost bent over, trying to breathe. When he finally managed to stand up, a giant wolf-thing was standing there. Scott startled, looked up at red eyes and knew, just knew that his life was over.

The Alpha’s name had been Peter Hale, a traitor from the Hale Pack. He’d murdered an Alpha by the name of Ennis and had taken his power for himself before joining Deucalion’s Pack. The Argents had been after them, and Scott had been stupid enough to be … accessible, just when Peter was on a mission of adding to their Pack.  
It had been Derek who’d taken Peter down. Derek who had left with his uncle, joined him when the other Were had refused to give in and be taken to the preserve. But after Peter attacked Scott, Isaac and a few other kids in town, Derek had had no choice but to take action. 

By that time, Peter’s victims had long since been found and taken in by the Militia. And Scott had lost everything he’d once held dear.  
Including his best friend - his brother. He just wished that Stiles would at least look at him. Even a glare filled with hate would be better than this… nothing.

What words where there?

He grabbed a paper, writing the only ones he could think of before pushing the paper over to Stiles.

“I’m sorry,” was the only thing written down. 

His heart broke when he watched the paper pushed off the table, down on the floor, ending up underneath his old friend’s boot.

The rest of class seemed to last forever, Scott couldn’t focus on any of the words the teacher was saying. Blood kept rushing to his head and he had to fight to keep his claws from showing, bowing over his desk and desperately repeating the mantra that Derek had taught him. 

When he left class, he had to force himself to keep moving. He walked past the guards as he headed up to the dorm. Boyd and Erica sat in the living room watching some show about big cats. They looked up as he came in, sensing his mood, but he shook his head, quietly asking to just let it be as he moved to his room. 

He sat down on his bed, his head between his legs. He hadn’t had this hard a time breathing since that last asthma attack before he’d been bitten.

“Scott?” He stared up, wolfing out as he did so. “Alpha. Are you alright?” Isaac leaned up against the door stile, waiting for an answer. Scott wanted to tell him to go, but he couldn’t, this was Isaac’s room as well. 

“He hates me,” he whispered. He didn’t have to add a name. He and Isaac had shared enough stories, that the Beta knew exactly whom Scott was talking about. 

“Then he’s an idiot.” Isaac stated without a second of hesitation. 

“I miss him, Isaac. God, I miss him so much.”

The two of them sat there for a while longer, eventually Isaac left and Scott looked at his homework, failing to stare down the text until it released its secrets to him. In the end he just gave up and laid down. What was he going to do?

 

 

******

 

 

Scott got out of his bed, feeling his back ache from the lumps in the mattress. He checked his alarm and didn’t know what to do, he still had two hours before he had to leave. Isaac was already gone, he had an early shift today before classes. Scott pulled out his text book and tried to focus on the assignment they had for English. He still had no idea what to write about, and he knew better than to leave it lying around, the assignment might not be due for another week, but that didn't mean he had time to spare. 

He got out of bed and stared at the mirror, trying to see the scrawny boy that he used to be. It was almost impossible to do so, did his eyes even look the same anymore? Was it any wonder that Stiles didn’t want anything to do with him?

He grabbed hold of the top of the doors and pulled himself up with one arm as he kept reading through one of his books, desperate to focus his attention anywhere other than on what he’d lost. 

Exercise had become a regular part of his life, a way towards survival even, and it was hard to ignore it now that he was supposed to be safe.

He pulled on a sweatshirt, and put on his running shoes, before telling the guards he was leaving. It was easy to run, even if his body kept demanding for him to move differently, as if he should be on all fours like the animal he was. He resisted the urge and tried to adjust to the scents around him. Waffles from a coffee place somewhere around the corner, hot dogs from across the street, and children playing in front of their mother’s watchful eyes. 

At least this time none of them knew what he was, he hated seeing the fear in people’s eyes.

There was an dog park on his way and he lingered there for a moment, trying to smell comforting to the dogs that probably sensed there was a predator around. He remembered working at Doctor Deaton’s clinic when he’d been human. Back when he still imagined himself as a vet one day. It was an impossible dream at this point, being at the preserve there was no way he’d had enough hours built up to get into the field. Even if he applied now, what animal clinic would want a Were working for them, scaring their patients? And when would he have the time? Between his studies and his job, his day was pretty full already.

He froze as two of the dogs started fighting, pulling his mind back to the preserve. He remembered some of the dominance fights there, with betas cooped up and feeling trapped, working out their frustration by beating the crap out of one another, and especially the younger and weaker ones amongst them.  
No matter how much Scott had tried to avoid it, he’d had no choice but to fight, first to defend himself, and then the others of his pack. He couldn’t let the stronger ones harm any of the younger kids, and it was better for him to get in trouble than the others. 

He growled from the memory. The two dogs froze when they heard him, stared up at him and started yelping, backing off immediately. Their owners looked his way and Scott quickly put up his hoodie and got to his feet.

He wasn’t fast enough. Two guys blocked his path. Scott tried to think of a way out. They wouldn’t let him. He tried to back off, but they already had him cornered.

“Aww, is the little doggie scared.”

Scott tried to ignore the slur. 

“Guess he found a place he belongs.” The second guy said. “With the rest of the dogs.”

“I don’t want any trouble.” He tried to say, but one of the guy was already pushing him back in the bench. 

“Sit, doggie. Think you can listen as well as a dog, think you’re safe enough to be out here, without a leash? Think it’s fine for monsters like you to be out amongst decent people like us? Think it’s fine for creatures like you to just walk out as if you have the right?”

Scott tried to block it out, hurting at every word. 

“Is he causing trouble?” He looked up when he heard a new voice of someone approaching them. It was Stiles, along with two others, both wearing Militia armbands.

“He’s out. That’s trouble enough,”one of the men answered. Dangerous, and smelling oh so scared, but trying to hide it from his friends. Refusing to admit that anything could intimidate him and lashing out in fear.

“Let him go, Thomas. Before you give him an excuse to fight back.” Stiles practically radiated authority. As if he knew what he was talking about and was expecting others to follow his lead. Much like his father had been. It was no wonder that Stiles was following his father in a career obviously aimed at law enforcement.

“As if he could do anything.” The guy was huge, obviously used to being able to overpower people. The quarterback type, young enough to be in school with them.

“Did you see the color on his earring, Thomas? That’s an Alpha you’re messing with. If you gave him an excuse he could go for your throat, or worse turn you in a heartbeat.”  
That was enough to make the guy back off. 

Not that Scott ever would, brutes like these would make terrible wolves. Too violent, too out of control. Turning someone like that, was something only a mad man like Deucalion would have done. But he wasn’t stupid enough to correct their misassumption. 

He turned to Stiles and the other Militia members when Thomas and his friends left to go round up their dogs. He knew he wasn’t any safer now that he’d been before. Except… it was Stiles. Was it wrong for him to want it to mean something that Stiles had stepped into the conflict the way he had?

But Stiles didn’t say anything, just looked away as he let Scott pass.

It was almost worse than if they’d followed the civilians’ lead.

He ended up taking a shower, desperate to wash the slurs away. As if it made the world better if he could just be clean of their hate. It didn’t work. He came out of the communal showers, the ones that at least had better water pressure than the ones in the dorms. It had been too hard to go back there, face the others. Not when they needed him to be strong. He was glad that he’d at least had the foresight to pack some stuff in his locker near the gym. He pulled his towel back up where it had slid down during his shower and grabbed a second towel to dry his hair.

There was a piece of paper lying on top of his clothes. He closed his eyes and forced himself to continue, it looked crumbled, scuff marks on the corner, someone had tried to straighten it, but it hadn’t worked.

It was the one he’d passed to Stiles.

He shivered, trembling as he picked it up and stared at it. 

“For what?”

He looked around, trying to catch Stiles’ scent. Seems like he was using some kind of scent blocker. They hadn’t learned much about stuff like that at the preserve. It was seen as too dangerous for them to know how to go against the few weapons the humans had against them. As if there weren’t times that being able to use a scent blocker could have made things easier on the kids at the school.

He wanted to run out, try and find Stiles before he was gone. He’d already taken a few steps when the cold chill of the door opening caught him out.  
He threw on his clothes, pushed his bag into his locker and ran out of the dressing room. Ready to beg anyone for information, anything. He tried to think of any class that he and Stiles would share, any place that he could talk to him, that Stiles wouldn’t mind talking back.

Thinking so hard that he almost ran into Stiles when he left the gym.

Stiles stood there, waiting, alone.

Scott caught his breath, staring at Stiles.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The hurt coming from Stiles was almost tangible. Scott wanted to reach out to him and comfort him, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t have the right, not anymore.

“I didn’t know how. I was scared.”

“Are you still you?”

Scott didn’t know how to answer that one. Was he? Was the Alpha McCall, the same person as the scrawny nobody that he’d been back then?

“They said that you were dead, that the you that’s left was nothing but a monster wearing your face.”

Scott looked away, unable to say anything. 

“I don’t know what I am, if I’m not me.” Was the only answer he could give. “I missed you.”

Missed Stiles’ hand on him, Stiles lips on his lips, missed his friend, his brother, his everything. 

Stiles’ looked at him, as if he was going to say something back. 

Then he turned his back and left and it was worse than it had been before.

 

*****

 

 

They didn’t talk again for another week, avoided one another in class. Stiles kept staring at him, and Scott tried to get away when Stiles did so. It didn’t take long for the pack to notice and start playing interference between them. Making sure there was at least one of them with him at all times. As if they expected him to break if Stiles dared to breathe his way.

They might not be wrong.

When Stiles finally came up to him, Isaac tried to get in the way. But Scott shook his head. Isaac still glared at Stiles.

“I missed you too, you big jerk.” Stiles said as if picking up last week’s conversation. “I lost you. I tried to avenge you. But it didn’t help. You were gone, and I lost you. I’d already lost my mom, I didn’t want to lose you too. But then you were a monster, and I was scared and ashamed that I was scared. And you were gone, and you didn’t talk to me. You didn’t tell me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Scott was an Alpha, other Weres feared his strength, even if he barely knew what that strength was supposed to mean. He was a leader in his own right, he had his own Pack. But confronted with Stiles, it felt like none of that mattered, it was like he was that little kid sitting in the sand, crying because one of the bigger kids had thrown sand on his ice cream. Stiles had sat down next to him, licking the dirt of his ice cream and handing it back to Scott. “All better now” is what he’d said. Scott had smiled at him, and offered him more of his ice cream, finishing it together. They’d been one person in two bodies since. One person torn apart when Scott had been bitten.

“Don’t ever do that again, Scott. Don’t you dare.”

When Stiles pulled him in a hug, it was like coming home.

When they shared a class the next day, Stiles was wearing normal clothes. His Militia clothing put away in the back of his closet. They didn’t talk about it.  
Sometimes when they sat together, sharing Scott’s bed, Stiles fingers would hover over Scott’s earring, brushing past its tag. He’d tense up for a second before he continued. They didn’t talk about that either.

The wounds between them might never heal completely, but they were getting to know one another again. And that mattered. 

 

It had to.


End file.
